


Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow

by Quentin_threepwood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bears, Flirting, Gay, HP Next Gen Fest 2020, Harry Potter Next Generation, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Parenthood, Same-Sex Marriage, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27023944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quentin_threepwood/pseuds/Quentin_threepwood
Summary: Away on a book tour Albus Severus Malfoy grows a very creepy mustache, much to the horror of his still at home husband Scorpius Malfoy.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44
Collections: Next Gen Fest 2020





	Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2020 Harry Potter Next Gen Fest!

“Fuck. One second...” Albus Severus Malfoy called out to the person knocking on the other side of the hotel room door. Of course three things would be happening at once. He turned back to the iPad that was ringing and swiped a wet finger across the screen. “Give me one second. Dinner’s arrived,” Albus apologised as he walked to the door, gripping his towel tightly, mostly so he didn’t end up flashing the Room Service guy.

“Oh, I see how it is...” Scorpius’s voice echoed out of the iPad Speaker.

He opened the front door and a hotel member in a uniform smiled, holding an Uber Eats Bag.

“For you, Mr Malfoy,” He smiled, his cheeks blushing as he realised Albus was naked.

“Thank you.” Albus said. taking the bag. “Let me grab you a Galleon for bringing it up. I appreciate it,” he said patting the young man on his shoulder.

The young man blushed deeply, “you don’t have too. Honestly.”

“Least I can do,” Albus smiled retrieving a galleon and handing it over.

The young man nodded. “Thank you Mr Malfoy, and let me know if you need anything at all,” he said as Albus started to close the door.

“You’ll be the first person I call Jack,” Albus smiled back before shutting the door.

“Were you flirting?” Scorpius asked dryly.

“No? I was being nice,” Albus sighed, carrying the bag over as he tugged on a t-shirt over his head. “I wouldn’t flirt. Not intentionally. It took me long enough to realise you were flirting with me at school. So how are you?” Albus smiled, as Scorpius smiled back at him. He looked a little tired, with slight dark circles under his eyes, his white blonde hair slightly darker coloured. Albus guessed he hadn’t showered that morning. Scorpius frowned and squinted at Albus.

“What...what is _that_?” Scorpius said pointing.

“What’s what?” Albus said turning around confused.

“On your face. Above your top lip...”

“Oh. It’s my moustache,” Albus chuckled. Above his top lip was brown bushy moustache that curled down the sides of his lip; it wasn’t quite yet a handlebar, but he had considered it. “What do you think? Make’s me look dignified.”

Scorpius eyebrow raised. “Who lied to you and said that?”

“My Editor?” Albus frowned.

“She probably only said it so you’d focus on writing your second book,” Scorpius commented. “How’s the book tour? You’re in Melbourne now, right?”

“Yeah. Then Hobart, Adelaide and Perth, and then home,” Albus nodded confirming. “I miss you, and Antares.” Albus smiled, thinking of his adorable son who was almost two years old. “I feel so neglected not seeing you every day,” Albus admitted, as he opened the Uber Eats bag and pulled out a burger.

“He misses you too. Antares? Do you want to say hi to Papa?” Scorpius said leaning off camera.

“Papa! Papa! Papa Home?”

“Not yet. But he is on the iPad. Let’s get you out of the highchair,” Scorpius groaned, before a chubby blonde toddler was pawing his tiny plump hands at the camera.

“Hi Antares. I miss you,” Albus grinned.

Antares met Albus’s eyes and his face went red as a tomato as he started crying: “Papa scary.” Albus barely caught the words as his son buried his face in Scorpius’s shirt.

“It’s the moustache,” Scorpius said flatly. “It scares him. And the fact you like it scares me.”

Albus frowned. “It’s only a moustache.” He squinted, not quite believing Scorpius that the moustache was scaring Antares.

“Just cover it with your hand,” Scorpius requested as he tried to calm the hysterical toddler. “Humour me?”

Albus sighed and covered it.

Antares fell silent and looked at Scorpius nervously. “Scary Papa gone?”

“It’s gone,” Scorpius nodded.

“Miss Papa! Read stories!” Antares insisted, his chubby arms wobbling.

Albus smiled. “I miss you too. And I have bought you a few presents.”

“Home soon?” Antares whimpered, his lip wobbling.

“10 more sleeps,” Albus promised, “and then I’m home.”

Antares started to wriggle and climbed off Scorpius lap, disappearing off camera.

“You’ve been alright without me?” Albus asked.

“Coping. He’s over at your parents at least twice a week. I’m mildly concerned your parents are trying to spoil him as much as Dad does. He’s going to have a massive sweet tooth.”

“Well he is their first grandchild,” Albus pointed out.

“What are you eating?” Scorpius squinted, leaning forward to try and get a better view.

“McDonalds,” Albus said, waving the burger to the camera. “I’ve been eating a lot of takeout at the moment. But I have love handles now.”

“So, you’re no longer the twink I married,” Scorpius chuckled.

“I’m definitely into ex-twink territory,” Albus chuckled. “I’ve named them.”

“You named your love handles?”

Albus stood up and showed his hairy, pale middle to the camera. “I call the left one Neglected Husband and the right one Comfort Eating.”

“Very witty,” Scorpius chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “But if you don’t shave off that moustache, _I’ll_ show you Neglected Husband,” Scorpius warned.

Albus winced. “Noted. It’ll be gone by the time I get home,” Albus promised, recognising his husband absolutely meant it.

“Good. I miss you,” Scorpius smiled.

“I miss you too. And I love you Scorpius.”

“I love you too. Not the Moustache though. Hate that. The rest of you though love that,” Scorpius grinned clarifying.

“Bye. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Albus sighed wryly. He really missed Scorpius.

* * *

  
  


For the next week Albus received texts, two owls and a phone call, purposely avoiding video calls - mostly to surprise his husband. In each one Scorpius still asked if he’d shaved his moustache off: he’d decided to grow it out instead.

He hadn’t told Scorpius this because he expected it wouldn’t end well. And really who liked shaving anyway? Albus was relieved to finally arrive back in England even if the long distance portkey he’d taken meant he’d been deposited near Manchester.

There was a loud crack as Albus apparated to the grounds of Malfoy Manor. The gravel crunched under his feet with each footstep towards the imposing home. His suitcase struggled to make traction with the gravel, and he resorted to carrying it inside. The moment the great mahogany doors were open, it smelt like home: slightly musty, and a little distantly of vanilla. “I’m home!” Albus yelled, mostly out of amusement. The house was large enough that his call could go completely unheard.

Impressively there was a patter of small feet on tile, followed by a thump and more pattering, as a small, completely naked, and sopping wet Antares rounded the corner. “Papa! Papa! Papa!” He said flapping his arms as he waddled over with the kind of awkward penguin walk all toddlers managed to do.

“There’s my little man! Where are your pants?” Albus chuckled as he heaved the toddler up into his arms? “Did you escape Papa?”

“Haiwy!” Antares said, reaching up and running his fingers through Albus beard curiously.

“Not scary then?” Albus chuckled. “Let’s get you back to the bathroom, eh?” Albus asked, blowing a raspberry on Antares belly which elicited a giggle before Albus slung his son over his shoulder, left the suitcase in the foyer and carried his giggling son to the bathroom.

“I should have locked the bathroom door. I don’t know how you manage to keep him interested,” Scorpius commented, sighing as he bent over the bathtub and he reached for the plug.

“Hello Albus. Welcome Home Albus. I’ve missed you so much Albus.”

Scorpius turned back to his husband; eyebrow raised. “I thought that was self-explanatory. I thought I said just shave it.”

“You said moustache. You mentioned nothing about beards. And anyway, I still like to hear it,” Albus commented, putting a giggling Antares on the bathmat and wrapping him up tightly in a towel.

“Well I have missed you,” Scorpius smiled leaning over and kissing Albus lips; his hands felt the dark beard curiously. “Although...” he smiled wryly.

Albus pulled back in amusement: “Now I’m a little scared.”

“What happened to the neglected husband act?” Scorpius smirked.

“It went into hiding when he arrived home and his husband looked ready to mount him,” Albus blushed.

Scorpius smiled and pressed his hands up Albus’s shirt. “Why don’t you put Antares to bed and then we could -”

“Right. Come on Bud, bedtime before Daddy gives you nightmares,” Albus said, drying his towel covered son. “Now where have your clothes got to?” Albus grinned.

“He drenched his pyjamas.”

“That was silly of you,” Albus said, tickling Antares before scooping him up and carrying him upstairs, Antares giggling enthusiastically and kicking his legs.

Albus managed to get Antares to Bed, but his enthusiasm at having Albus home meant he was babbbling and saying sentences at a speed that made it difficult for Albus to follow. With coaxing – at last - his son was asleep; Albus waited until he was certain Antares had drifted off, then crept to the door, shutting it as quietly and gently as possible.

Scorpius was leaning against the wall, beaming. “You’re such a natural with him. And then I’m...”

“Doing amazing,” Albus said, cupping Scorpius cheeks. “You took three weeks off work so I could go on a book tour on the other side of the world. Antares misses me, and he loves you just as much.”

“Maybe. I worry he’s lonely,” Scorpius admitted. “He doesn’t really have a lot of kids his own age in your family, other than Remus. And he’s still two years older.”

“What are you saying that we should-?” Albus asked curiously.

“Spend a ludicrous amount of money on a surrogate so we can have a baby that will one day resent us? Absolutely,” Scorpius replied with a grin.

“Mhmm. Those are the words of love,” Albus chuckled, as Scorpius’s fingers reached for Albus beard.

“No - that beard is - you look so damn manly. A big bear of a man,” Scorpius’s hands ran up Albus’s shirt and gripped his love handles. “I just want to...”

“Ride me like a hippogriff?”

“I was thinking more ‘fuck me till I can’t walk’,” Scorpius admitted, biting his lip; it was like he was a twenty-one-year-old twink again. Scorpius wasn’t, of course, but the affect was the same on Albus; a tent rose in his trousers.

“When have I ever succeeded in that?” Albus grinned, as he kissed Scorpius’s neck and tried to muffle his amusement.

“I still love that you try,” Scorpius moaned, “please...”

Albus grinned. “Bed it is,” he said, pleased that he had the best welcome he could have imagined.


End file.
